Succession of Ka'ra [Mandalorians]

[Renato Sarkin]

[member="Azrael"] [member="Atin Kandossii"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Nolan Detta"]

Sarkin smiled the gravity of what was happening not lost on him. For once upon a time Sarkin had found in a position to need to fight for what he felt was right fully his. Slowly making his way more towards the center of the group to a point where most every one in the group gather could see him including who had turned out to be his mentor [member="Anastasia Rade"]

Sarkin glanced at each of the men that stepped forward giving them a respectful nod. It was clear Sarkin only wanted to get the best few of what was about to happen and nothing more.

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Anastasia watched as a few good vode stepped up to the plate. She noticed one of those to be [member="Azrael"] whom had saved her from her prison. The young woman would follow him to the ends of galaxy. She loved her older brother and would always be grateful to him for all that he had taught her. It was good to see him happy as well as she had noticed [member="Devorah Khaladan"] by his side. She would have to make a point to go meet the woman whom had captured his heart.

[member="Sarkin Vance"] was easy to spot amongst the crowd as he didn't have armor and most did. She was glad to see that he had come to this historical event. It seemed perhaps her lessons were rubbing off on him in the right way.

"They are all going to fight for the title of Mand'alor and which ever among them wins will be our next Mand'alor. I don't believe it's a fight to the death. That would be well..it can't be. Afterwards we all drink and celebrate ." She stated as she took an empty space by his side. "The one on the left is Azrael. He saved me from the Sith and taught me to fight. I believe he will be victorious this day. I personally thought today was a great day to show off my armor. "

 

[Charlyn Nairne]

Chloe did her best to not look surprised as her riduur stepped up to the challenge. She didn't think he was interested and if he was, he had never mentioned it to her. Chloe would always stand beside him and his choices just she wished he wouldn't have surprised her like this. She knew he would make a great Mand'alor.

He was going to end up hurt either way but it wasn't as if she hadn't nursed him back to health before. That man always seemed to put himself directly in the way of danger which was why he would be a good leader. He was a good leader, a good husband and would be a wonderful father.

Turning she saw Kal arrive late but at least he was here. Chloe had a hard time believing that they were brothers as they were both so very different.

[member="Kal Kandossii"]
[member="Atin Kandossii"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Azrael"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Countess Calum Teramo"] [member="Shiro De'Vol"] [member="Rhodessa"] [member="Garrus Garon"] [member="Atin Kandossii"] [member="Chloe Kandossii"] [member="Kad Tor"] [member="Neskar A'toll"] [member="Anastasia Rade"] [member="Sarkin Vance"] [member="Titan"] [member="Marrik Aloxum"] [member="Anija Ordo"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Edric Ay'bara"]

Another Mando rode up on a wheeled Motorcycle with a sawed off shotgun on each thigh plate and strode over and stood in the crowd looking at the ones that stepped up to be Mand'alor.

"Hold on a damn minute!" The man said from his green buy'ce, "ain't no way imma follah some pink skinned halfbreed papa's boy or some Sith hooker juce drinking kark. Vilaz you better beat that boy or that's yer shebs. Atin teach that half breed his place! Papa Gil ain't here to save ya now boy!"

The Man pushed his helmet up to the top of his head and let it rest there while he pulled out a cigar and lit it.

 

[Nolan Detta]

Nolan looked around at those that stepped forward. Honestly, he wasn't threatened by any but Az. Knowing the prowess he held was his only worry. Atiin, Vilaz, and Sarkin were not a concern of his.

"If we have so many, how should we propose this to work? I am for hand-to-hand or melee. It is more traditional to our history."

Nolan stood his ground as the loud mouthed relative to Vilaz chirped his flaps. Some people should just stay home. Atiin, Vilaz and this new rednecked fellow are ones he though of.

[member="Verne Munin"] [member="Sarkin Vance"] @Atin Kandosii [member="Azrael"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

He heard the sound of the motorcycle. And Vilaz knew who was riding the vehicle that he had Mandal Hypernautics made. "'Bout damn karking time you get her, brother. Hate to have ya miss all the beating Imma gonna give to that hooker kark and to that Lil' twelve year old, pinked skinned girl that thinks is gonna represent women as the dominant figure" he responded back to his older brother. The two of them had the same personality, the same background, and understood each other. If it was one important fact that people should know is that the Munin boys were the worst racist, sexist, Mandalorians in the vode and in the galaxy who are considered as asses.

His attention went back at Nolan and said to him, "Why don't you shut your trap and get your shebs to my knife." A combat knife was then unsheathed from his belt, and his buy'ce was set on his head, for the Redneck Rally Master was ready for the brawl that was about to commence. He slowly advanced to Nolan with his knife close to his chest and having the pointed end of the knife pointing at Nolan.

Murmurs would arise from the Mando'ade as they would put all their attention to the combatants. Out of these fearless warriors one would rise and would officially be Mand'alor, the sole ruler of the Mandalorians.

(OOC: Sorry for not tagging everyone. Too many people to tag. #laziness)

 

[Azrael]

For these warriors of the world that stood united against any force or faction that dare oppose them beneath their battle sky, conflict was a way of life. They were born into war, bred for battle, and forged in the fires of glorious combat. While the family of the vode was of great importance, even their own were willing to throw down in the most sacred and time honored traditions of their people since the first Taung did thousands of years ago to become Mand'alor the First. The strongest, the bravest, and the most worthy among them would rise to the occasion from the fire of conflict and strife, proving their worth through battle to rise as the victor and claim that coveted title. The surveying sweep of his gray gaze cast a panoramic view upon the gathered Mando'ade and the three men before him all willing to step forward to take the title, wiling to wrestle it out of the grip of anyone else who challenged that claim. Azrael among them kept his firm and unwavering gaze locked like a flint at his brothers.

Nolan was a faithful and time-honored brother, and while he was often three sheets to the wind, the man could hold his own. Vilaz was someone he was just getting to know, but he'd watched him charge headlong into battle, damning the odds and challenging any who stood in his path. His gaze shifted to Atin as his vocal decree struck the most firm and resolute in his ears. This was a man he was not acquainted with, and had only seen a time or two. A small grin spread on his features as the words of the Allit Buir rang out, satisfying Azrael's challenge. Then came the lout. The roar of an engine driving up and into Mandal Motors Grand Hall, the ring of the engine bouncing off the cavernous walls of this hallowed place. Brows furrowed and his gaze penetrated to the green clad Mandalorian. Vilaz was somewhat tight lipped, as far as he could tell, but his Ori'vod was not so restrained. His smirk shifted into a straight face of stoic resolve while the barrel of his insults rang out further than he wagered that sawed off shotgun could muster.

Azrael loved his Mando'ade, with the heart of a warrior, and the spirit that knew family was above all. This was not the voice of a challenger however, but of a spectator. While the cold stare of disdain rested firm on the slight crimson visage of the half-blood, he chose to currently ignore those words in silence. Mirroring the action as Vilaz retorted, Azrael too raised his buy'ce and lifted it to his head securing the helmet in place, and letting the system flash online, giving the crimson visor a sheen of light behind it. Turning his attention and focus then to Atin. It would seem as if Vilaz had already chosen his first round draft pick, and was choosing to square off against Nolan. Azrael might have had a little less concern with facing either of those two, from the simple fact that he'd witnessed them fight. Atin was an anomaly to him, and thus precaution came as his bionic arm drew back and released the E'tad Kal from it's sheath. The staff spun on his hand before the weighty end of it landed in his right gauntlet. A flick of a hidden switch was given and the blade flipped out, moving into the glaive position and locking fast.

"I vorer ner'vod, tsikador." The somewhat synthesized vocals of Azrael's speech rang out to Atin as the weapon slid between his hands and the butt of the staff struck the ground. From tip to aft, the weapon measured over his head at six and a half feet, and glistened in the firelight before them. His left foot slid back and his right came forward, right hand to the fore of the staff's animal hide grip, while his bionic took up the rear. Movement came next in the fashion of a slow semi-circle to become the predator in the first seconds of motion. The weapon held at the ready and gripped tight. Gilamar had been an expert with staff weapons, and his adopted 'ad was no slouch in that department. This weapon was his signature piece, crafted special from the first crushing defeat he gave to the Sith back on Yaga Minor. A weapon he'd carry with him to his dying day - which he certainly didn't plan on being this one.


[member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Nolan Detta"] | [member="Verne Munin"] | [member="Atin Kandossii"] | [member="Devorah Khaladan"]

 

[Nolan Detta]

Vilaz drew a blade on Nolan, big mistake. Nolan pulled his L3 off his back and laid it on the floor, along with his Kath Hound. He stepped past them and drew his Beskad. He held it in one hand, over his shoulder.

"You wanna play with sharp things, let's play ade"

He moved closer to Vilaz tauntingly.

[member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Verne Munin"] [member="Sarkin Vance"] [member="Azrael"]

 

[200]

Shado just sat in the back, listening from afar. Honestly, he didn't know the Mandalorians here that well, he had been away far too long. It was best he didn't speak anyways, less be there more trouble added then needed.

 

[Muad Dib]

He watched Azrael prepare, placing his helmet back on and pulling forth his weapon. "Ni tsikador ru'tuur, ibii'tuur, nakar'tuur. Oya!" His own buy'ce came up covering his visage and as the seal hissed his heads up display flickered to life. His head turned for a moment as his eyes searched for Chloe. He hadn't spoken to his riduur about this, about wanting this, about claimng the title of mand'alor. But there was a reason.. He didn't seek for it nor did he desire for it. He was happy being warrior, aliit, hunter. But he would not allow the mando'ade fall into leadership disarray. He wanted what was best for his people. And he would answer the call this day, or fall to one more worthy.

Turning back to his opponent he let his wife slip from his conscious thoughts as he went with instincts. His hands came up and unbuckled his gunbelt and let it drop to the ground behind him. Then he unclipped the E-11 from his chest plate and laid that on his gunbelt. Straightening once more his hand went to the small of his back and removed a black and silver cylinder that those nearby would recognize as a lightsaber. Lifting it in the palm for a moment he set it aside.

"This is between vode, not jetii or dar'jetii. The jetii'kad has no place here in this place." His right pulled the curved beskad while his left slid free a kal. Reversing the grip of the beskar knife Atin slid his left side forward, his left arm ahead while his right pulled the beskad in close to his body.

And so it begins...

He lunged forward leading with his left fist in a punch at his vod's armored chest. He knew the arm would most likely be deflected but if not the strike would be powerful enough to stagger a man. Meanwhile he brought his right elbow in to his side and twisted his wrist, striking down around for a blow against the knee where the plates were typically gaped for knee movement.

@Anastasia Rade | @Vilaz Munin | @Nolan Detta | @Verne Munin | [member="Azrael"] | @Devorah Khaladan [member="Chloe Kandossii"]


(Forgot to translate, Thanks for reminding [member="Anija Ordo"] lol)

(1) "I prepare past days, today, tomorrow."​

​

(2) "This is between brothers, not jedi or sith. The lightsaber has no place here."​

 

[Garith Organa]

Standing there in the great hall as he listened to the debate shift into what was expected from tradition. The announcement a circle would begin. Garith remained quiet. Quiet as he always had been. It was not his place to speak at this time but it was his place to witness the challenges and whom would be the next Mand’alore. What he thought or felt was not exchanged. He stood void of emotion, he stood vigilant, he stood waiting.

 

[Anija Betna]

[member="Azrael"] | [member="Basaba Willamina"] | [member="Countess Calum Teramo"] | [member="Shiro De'Vol"] | [member="Rhodessa"] | [member="Garrus Garon"] | [member="Atin Kandossii"] | [member="Chloe Kandossii"] | [member="Kad Tor"] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Sarkin Vance"] | [member="Titan"] | [member="Marrik Aloxum"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Edric Ay'bara"] | [member="Ginnie Ordo"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="Mia Monroe"]

For now, Anija contented herself with observing. Sure, she could put up a fight if the situation required it. Besides the fact, she wasn't sure if she could hold her own against Azrael. He was younger than her and by far, had more combat experience than she did. That was not to say however, that she was a hut'uun. She knew when to pick her battles. zher helmet gripped firmly in her left arm, she watched the proceedings with slightly narrowed eyes. Emotions were high in the room, and it made her feel slightly dizzy.

She continued to watch as a handful stepped forward. Vilaz. Atin. Azrael. Nolan. And a few others. She had to admit, she wasn't overly surprised at those who did so. Gripping Arrbi's hand, she continued to look around the expansive hall at the other gathered Mando'ade. A great many had gathered to witness the events of the day, and for a moment, her gaze rested on Edric. An Elder of the Mando'ade, he was aging, but still carried an air of experience. One which demanded respect.

As these thoughts went through her head, her attention was diverted by the loud and not so subtle shouts of her younger sister, Ginnie. She had Mandokarla1... in spades it seemed. Just listening to the fire and the passion in the words that she directed to the Verd, made Anija grin and elbow Arrbi in the ribs. It... surprised a her a bit to hear such... passionate words coming from such a young person. But, given recent events, she supposed it shouldn't surprise her quite so much. She moved her way through the crowd and for a moment, laid a comforting hand on Ginnie's shoulder.

She kept it there for a moment or two... at least until some very caustic words were hurled across the cavernous space. Instantly, she rounded on the source of the voice as she dropped her helmet back over her head. In a handful of strides, she crossed the room and grabbed the loudmouth Mando by the shoulder, and tried to bodily spin him around. Granted, she was a bit shorter than him and very much lighter, but she hoped momentum would work in her favor. "Listen, mir'osik2. I don't know who the feth you are, nor do I care. I do not care about what you think of the situation. But you will show some fething respect."

Her voice had an edge of steel that carried well to those around them, and she stood ready, her hands hovering near her rippers as she balanced on the balls of her feet. Around her, she could sense her fellow Protectors shifting to positions of watchful readiness. "If you refuse to follow such people.... then you can either step up to the challenge yourself, or walk away." By now, her visor was mere inches from his face. She backed up a step and then moved back in quickly, slamming her head forward to impact his nose as her grip on his arm pulled him down towards it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. Mandokarla: Having the right stuff; guts; spirit.
2. Mir'osik: dung for brains.

 

[Azrael]

As confrontations went, this was not something Azrael had done before. He'd assuredly squared off against other Mandalorians in combat, in spars, and in training. He'd faced down Sith and other soldiers in times of war, slaughtered people within his path with great skill and fury, and even destroyed the advancing plague of an infected black sludge. This was an altogether different circumstance, one born out of time honored tradition and of the highest calling. This confrontation was to make history, and on it weighed a decision that was both timeless and stacked with burden and pride. The half-blood could feel it in his bones while he moved, radiating a fire of purpose and strength. A musing grin traced over his face invisible to the company around them as Atin slipped off everything not warranted for a contest of this caliber. There was a great degree of respect on the line here, and both knew it, both had set themselves in motion to see who would champion the cause and rise to the occasion.

Several influential people had brought Azrael here today, to this place, to this very circumstance. Some were among the living, and in this very room. Others had passed on into the Manda, or to other spiritual resting places. This was a journey for him that had started well back in his formative years on Ord Mantell, and was only coming to the next mountain he would climb in the face of another storm shaping him and further crafting the warrior that had been residing in him all along. As footsteps were taken, crossing behind each other with the glaive pointed in accusatory fashion towards Atin's form, the dull thrum of a beat began to rise. The Mando'ade gathered within the Great Hall had begun the drum beat of battle. Gauntlets clashed, staffs struck, and boots stamped. A mighty resounding rhythm of metal impacting stone drew into the very heart beat of the Field Marshal as the time to dance had come.

In rush of power and speed, Atin's form came charging forward carrying two blades in answer to his weapon. The tactics and prowess of the fighting legions of Mandalorians varied wildly. They had all been trained in combat, in a wide variety of weapons, strategic formations, and the unrelenting, and undying fire for the glory of war. Left to chest, and right to knee, a two-pronged attack that had the half-blood reacting with a single motion. The glaive pivoted into a vertical separation between the two, thrusting the butt of the staff to interject against the ground, while his right arm raised above to parry and divert Atin's punch upwards and over his arm, while the glaive's staff intersected the besked that had originally come for his knee. A moment of parrying was interrupted by the raise of his form from both knees, and a turn of his bionic left shoulder. The mythosaur encrusted plate turned and like a battering ram, went for the the lowered right shoulder with excessive force. A blow like that would normally carry the possibility of dislocation for both competitors, save for the fact that you didn't so easily disrupt the mechanical fortitude of alchemized metal.

Follow-through though was crucial however, and with the motion of a shoulder ram, Azrael swept his right leg back and around lifting the glaive for a secondary motion. The pole-arm went horizontal to connect with his armored neck and pivot on the axis point before he'd exchange grips and take the momentum of the spin into his bionic clawed digits to whip the glaive's blade (dull edge) towards his foe in a movement that while it may not connect with such a large arch, it was also meant to put distance between the pair. A reset of battle early on could turn the tides, and he wanted to gauge more effectively the tactics of the unknown before he committed to a continuous blow by blow mindset.

[member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Atin Kandossii"] | [member="Nolan Detta"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Devorah Khaladan"]

 

[Kal Kandossii]

To say Kal was surprised when Atin stepped into the circle was an understatement. Moving next to his sister by marriage Kal grunted. "Was this the big plan? Or is he doing this to impress you?" The sarcasm and scorn dripped heavily in his voice. But he didn't take his eyes off the combatants as they prepared to battle. Unbidden Kal's hand drifted to the handle of his slugthrower as his eyes focused onto Azrael. This was tradition, but if his brother died, so did the man who killed him. Tradition or not.

[member="Chloe Kandossii"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Fire filled his veins as the battle was finally joined. There was something right about single combat, bladed weapons, and beskar'gam. It was natural. It was instinctual. It was what they were made for. Trained with beskad and kal, foot and fist, knee and elbow, with pure cussed determination and willpower. Atin was a verd, a warrior, one forged by his own alor as an ad'ika and tempered in countless battles since. It was in his blood, blood that was singing as the two mando'ad were joined in the ancient dance.

And dance it was. The length of the scythe allowed for simultaneous parrying of Atin's weapons, not an unforeseen tactic. As Atin's stance widened he watched the armored shoulders shift as his opponent's weapon began to swing up and toward his lowered right shoulder. Instinct had Atin curling his shoulder down even more and into his body allowing the blow to glance over his right shoulder, instead of connecting fully with his shoulder and dealing a large amount of kinetic power to the unprepared joint. The force of the blow reverberated the armor and brushed the flesh beneath.

As Azrael spun the weapon around his neck Atin had a moment to make a choice. He could fall back and continue to test his opponent as Azrael tested him This would allow each to learn a bit about the fighting styles the other used, observe the strengths, and locate any weaknesses to be exploited. The second choice was to dive in, both literally and figuratively. The win would be decided not by the careful moves of master strategic warrior but by luck, chance, an the internal instincts that allowed the warrior to react without thinking. A primitive battle that would test each fighter's endurance, pain levels, and will power. The second choice always tended to be the shortest of the two, as well as more brutal and unforgiving.

Atin stepped forward.

Pivoting as he drove forward he slammed his back plate into Azrael's chest (or at least that was the plan). Bringing up his beskad he drove the blade toward the armored hands that were currently lashing the weapon out into an attack. Atin's goal was to parry the weapon out away from their bodies while possibly attempting to shear through the fingers of his opponent as his beskad went to ride along the body of the weapon.

In addition to the spin and deflection Atin drove his left arm back aiming the kal ,still in the reverse grip, back toward's the plate armor over the hips. Most armor allowed the plates to not over lay to give the wearer the maximum mobility. Other armor types utilized a scale design of over lapping plates that, if a knife caught it correctly, could be pierced at just the right angle. Course that was also dependent on his oppoent's reaction to the spinning body check, beskad parry, and Atin's reverse headbutt as he drove the back of his buy'ce toward the visor of Azrael's own helm.

@Anastasia Rade | @Vilaz Munin | @Nolan Detta | @Verne Munin | Azraelhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/1399-azrael/ | @Devorah Khaladan Chloe Kandossiihttp://starwarsrp.net/user/883-chloe-kandossii/

 

[Nyos Val]

[member="Kal Kandossii"]

Marrik watched the first fight between Azrael and Atin start off with a few blows traded, but what really caught his eye was the movements of the one called Kal. His hand made for his weapon, an honor less move if there ever was one. Like a shadow from the crowd, Marrik's was on the wrist of Kal, he slid his vibrosword's point to the waist of the Vod.

"You are spectator, not participant. Your part is to watch, not act. I am not going to harm you, so long as you withhold your actions and await the outcome of this fight. If you are attempting to possibly exact revenge were your brother to lose, I will not be your only concern if you attack his victor."

 

[Briika Munin]

Briika had arrived late to the gathering of Mando'ade at the Great Hall. The time had come to choose a new Mand'alor. She was surprised to see who had stepped forward. Well Azarel had been a given to do so, but the others…. especially one of them with armor she only knew too well; her brother-in-law's. What in the world was [member="Nolan Detta"] thinking? Not that Bree thought he couldn't do it or shouldn't, just that it had totally caught her off guard. Well maybe not totally as the Wreaking Ball had a history of making very spontaneous and crazy decisions in the past that she just shook her head at. This was no exception. Good thing she'd brought her medkit with her. He was a messy fighter.

The golden blonde in silver armor made her way through the crowd and quickly found her brother, [member="Kad Tor"], who was seemingly attending without his riduur like she was for now.

"Su'cuy, vod'ika. So how are things shaping up?"

Spoiler

[member="Ralize Tor"] [member="Kable Detta"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Azrael"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Countess Calum Teramo"] [member="Shiro De'Vol"] [member="Rhodessa"] [member="Garrus Garon"] [member="Atin Kandossii"] [member="Chloe Kandossii"] [member="Kad Tor"] @Neskar A'tol [member="Vilaz Munin"]

Verne pulled the cigar out of his mouth when [member="Nolan Detta"] said some trash about playing with sharp things.

"Play with sharp th.." he said to himself, "HE DON'T MEAN THAT TWIG 'NEATH YER COD PIECE BUCKO."

Verne laughed at his own comment and looked around for a second noticing the glares.

"What'er yall lookin at?" He said, "ya undressin me with yet karkin eyes. Kark off."

He cross his arms as one fight began and his little brother played grab shebs with the sith drinker. He puffed his cigar with a cocky smirk on his face until some broad spun him around.

She flap jawed plenty well and drew her head back and yanked him forward. His cigar dropped to the deck as his face moved toward her faceplate. The dull wet crack of his nose and mouth slamming into beskar was enough to grab extra attention.

He stumbled back a step holding a bloody mouth and nose for a second before he took his hand away and looked at it.

"You. Stupid. Flat chested, sith loving, death watch hooker." He growled, "what? Yer back stabbing buir never taught ya yer place? Or maybe ya need a real man to charge your boarding ramp and teach ya what yer mouth is really for."

Verne's hand went to his shotgun and came up fast....

 

[Charlyn Nairne]

"I don't know," Chloe stated silently. If he was looking for a way to impress her this was not the way to go about it. He knew that though and so she believed this had something to do with the principle of the matter. "Nobody was stepping up so he did. Atin wouldn't allow the title to go unchallenged."

The fight was hard for her to watch only because her beloved was fighting. There was nothing she could do to help him until it was over. The last thing that she wanted to think about was him dying. He would be sitting on that throne soon enough. "He's not going die. He wouldn't do that to me or our child. He will be sitting upon that throne soon enough." She nodded looking to the two men beside her before turning her attention back to the fight itself. He would be hurt she assumed but nothing a little loving care couldn't fix. There was no need to get dramatic.

[member="Atin Kandossii"] [member="Kal Kandossii"] [member="Marrik Aloxum"]

 

[Renato Sarkin]

Sarkin smiled at [member="Anastasia Rade"] taking his focus away from what is going on to look at her.

"I have been a gangster my whole adult life Ana." "You don't live as long as I have in this game without finding yourself fighting to keep what you have." "At least you Mandalorians are in the open and upfront about it." "I had to sleep with one eye open and a blaster under my pillow to keep from getting murdered in my sleep by every young thug looking to make a name for himself to rise to the top."

Sarkin winked at her before turning back to focus on the fighting.